Present: Near the Ferris Wheel, London
T he Cheshire enjoyed the Pillar’s whip more than any other toy he ever had. Not only did it glitter in his hands and make him feel like a lion, not a cat anymore, but it killed instantly.
Whenever one of the crazed people tried to attack them, the Cheshire whipped them to death. It even worked with the attacking mushrooms sometimes. And even better, some of the plants with razor blades.
“You surely are into whipping,” the Pillar mused, looking for Fabiola.
“The sexual innuendos are getting a bit too on the nose.”
“What are you talking about, Cheshy?” the Pillar amused himself.
The idea that he knew more than anyone else wouldn’t leave the Cheshire alone, and it ate at him. So much that maybe killing the Pillar wasn’t a good idea before he knew what the damn butterfly was up to.
“Actually, I’m talking about you… Pilly.”
“I love how we could have both become Bonnie and Clyde,” the Pillar teased him, but with eyes focused on the road. “We would make a brilliant buddy cop movie.”
“Cops are good. We’re far from it.”
“Good and bad. A matter of perception.”
“I do believe this is how you think about it, actually,” the Cheshire considered. “I’m really in for the bad. All the way.”
“You’re not bad. You’re bitter that humans killed your ancestors.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Why are you sneaky, manipulative, and eventually bad?”
“Ass.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not bad. I’m badass.”
“You sound like a four-year-old now.”
“I don’t think four-year-olds can say badass.”
“You know what I mean.”
“It’s the end of the world, Cheshy. Chillout.”
“We’re all gonna die. And come back again.”
“Ah, you know about that?” the Pillar sounded nonchalant, though the Cheshire believed it to be crucial information.
“I’ve been remembering things since the mushrooms came up.”
“Like what?”
“Like that, I’ve seen this happen before.”
“You’re right. We’ve done this before. It’s how the story goes.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Trust me, I’m not really sure, but since the damn Looking Glass came to Wonderland and we’ve been in and out in this loop, trying to find the best meaning for our lives as fictional characters that factual humans don’t respect.”
“I’m not a character in a book. I’m real.”
The Pillar said nothing but he smiled. “Look, Cheshire, no one really knows what this whole universe is about. We do our time and hope for the best, enjoy the moment, and if lucky we put a smile on someone else’s face or leave a legacy to be remembered.”
“That’s deep nonsense,” the Cheshire whipped a man dead for no reason.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” the Pillar said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Enlighten me. You seem to know everything.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Why you want to see Fabiola for one last time before we all die.”
“Well, I’m not sure we all die this time—not if Alice makes things right.”
“She is a tough cookie, but still a cookie. We die, Pilly. And come back again. Start from scratch. So why look for Fabiola?”
“I need to tell her something.”
“That you were an ass back then in Wonderland?”
“Badass,” the Pillar teased. “But nah, I want to tell her who I am.”
The Cheshire stopped in this tracks. He had always suspected something. “You’re the Jabberwocky.”
The Pillar stopped and smiled at him. “You think so?”
“You must be, or how do you know so much?”
“Me, you, and Jabberwocky were in the same room a day ago.”
“Me, you, and a man in the dark, you mean. I’ve never seen him. No one has ever seen his face.”
“If I were him I’d have killed Alice when I had a chance earlier.”
The Cheshire itched his Joker’s plastic nose, thinking. “That’s true.”
“See? I’m not him. I want him dead. I hope Alice can do it.”
“Then who are you, and why does it matter to tell Fabiola?”
The Pillar lowered his eyes and stared at his boots. “You won’t understand.”
“Cats are smart, Pilly. I’ve outsmarted you many times before.”
“True, and I see you have calmed down lately, but you wouldn’t understand because you’ve never loved someone.”
The Cheshire purred with mockery. “Not again. Oh my. You never loved Fabiola, Pilly.”
“Oh, I did. I do. Always.”
Had the Cheshire sensed the sincerity in the Pillar’s voice, he would have interrupted him again.
“Then why did you do all you did to her?” the Cheshire asked.
He didn’t expect to see the Pillar’s eyes as moist as he did when he looked back at him. Never had he seen him this way. Vulnerable and in need of forgiveness.
The Pillar said nothing for a while and then, “I never hurt her—”
Though the Cheshire was keen on listening to what the Pillar had to say, a loud squealing of tires nearby caught his attention.
He and the Pillar saw a car flip against a rising mushroom and cow-tip in the middle of the road. A family of five were inside. Parents and three children. They were screaming.
“Another bunch of losers,” the Cheshire rolled his eyes. “What were you saying again, Pilly?”
The Pillar wasn’t listening. He had his eyes fixed on the family.
“Pilly?” the Cheshire whipped the hose in the air to wake him up from whatever he was daydreaming about.
“Give me that,” the Pillar gripped the Cheshire’s hands.
“Whoa,” the Cheshire pulled away. “We had a deal.”
“I’ll give it back,” the Pillar grunted, nodding at the children. “I have to save them.”
“Says who?” the Cheshire said.
“They’re chanting,” the Pillar pulled the hose harder, leaving the Cheshire with bloody palms behind.
“What’s gotten into you, Pilly!” the Cheshire couldn’t understand the situation. “Since when do you care?”
“They’re reading Lewis’ book!” the Pillar said running toward the car. “We need every child reading the book, or we will lose.”
“I thought you wanted to lose—I mean win—I mean whose side are you on, man? Why does it matter?”
The Pillar whipped at the plants roaming around, catching their attention. Swiftly they surrounded him and wheezed at him.
“Double-you-tee-eff?” the Cheshire said.
“Come help me!” the Pillar demanded.
“Why? For the children? For Lewis? I never cared, man.”
The Pillar attacked the plants while they wounded his arms simultaneously. “I do care, Cheshy,” the Pillar shouted between whips. “I always did.”
The Cheshire realized that he could finally put two and two together. The Pillar’s mystery from the beginning. His curse. Whoever kills him wears his body. Of course, it was clearer now what happened.
“And I thought I was so smart,” the Cheshire ran to help him, “Nothing is really what it seems.”